I had a patient during MedSurg in February who was getting worked up at UCSF after 3 months of trying to find answers for a cold that just wouldn't go away. He was anxious and bored, which sucks for a patient but is GREAT for a student nurse. I may not be able to push morphine, but I can shoot the shit with the best of them :)
After I got my morning stuff done, I remember pulling a chair up next to his bed and chatting about why he was there and what it felt like to be waiting for what probably wasn't going to be good news. Sometimes patients don't ask enough questions and don't know what is going on behind the scenes with labs and tests... not so for this guy. He was on top of it. I love that. He told me about his wife and sons... and about a book he was reading since he was bored. Something about letters and World War II, he said. My head jerked up and I loudly exclaimed, "GUERNSEY LITERARY AND POTATO PEEL PIE SOCIETY!!!!!!" He thought I was totally nuts for getting the book reference, but we were friends from that point on.
I watched his labs and progress notes come up on his chart for days - it took them a long time to diagnose him with a form of Leukemia called ALL (or was it AML? I can't remember now). He started chemo almost immediately but stayed on the Heme-Onc annex rooms on our floor instead of moving downstairs to where Oncology patients typically stay. I peaked in on him often - sometimes a quick visit between classes or just a place to hide during my clinical days to take a break. I learned the hard way NOT to forget to say goodnight to him before I left the floor - it cost me a Jamba Juice delivery to get back into good graces :)
In the middle of chemo, he was going a little stir crazy and would circle the halls over and over and over again with his IV pole wearing a gown and a hat. I'd do a couple laps with him sometimes and he'd tell me that it was "like Nam in here" and he was going to use his pole to bowl over the Med students who always stand in huge clusters in the hallways and totally block them up. They don't move for nurses OR patients, apparently. I can't say I discouraged him from going for it haha.
I received an email from his wife last week saying he was back at UCSF and not doing well. I wrote her back asking for an update and what floor he was on so I could visit, but a few minutes ago I received a reply from her saying he passed away last Friday.
Last Friday. About 3 months since diagnosis. About 6 months since symptom onset. It's robbery, really.
I wrote his wife with a few stories and thoughts and appreciations for what he gave to me as a nursing student and as a person. There are many despite such a short time frame - but... that's why I love this profession so, so much. Immediate intimacy with patients. The ability to ask any question and be trusted completely. The humanness of it all.
So I've been crying and reflecting for the last hour and feel profoundly grateful to him for letting me in on what he didn't know would be his last months. And I want to share what makes me cry the hardest and feel the deepest gratitude even though it feels private and vulnerable: That man never let me leave his room without telling me - all jokes, all laughs, all light-heartedness aside - that I was going to be a great nurse. And he made me FEEL like a great nurse. In this year of being wrong SO much and doing things inefficiently ALL the time and not knowing when the day will come where I won't feel so inept... that sincere affirmation coming from that remarkable patient has meant everything.
